Tell Me I'm Dreamin' (23 page)

Nadine's slightly open eyes gazed into his with longing. She wanted to feel the full force of his firm lips on hers. With anxious hands she dropped the legal pad and placed trembling fingers in the tangle of black curls that crowned his head, bringing her the closeness she craved. Tentatively, Nadine's tongue parted his lips. With tiny strokes she dipped inside, apprehensive, but needing to seek out the moistness that she knew waited there.

Ulysses did not disappoint her. Her inviting strokes awakened him from his indecision. He wrapped her firmly in both arms, tilting her head back to deepen the kiss. His searching exploration of her mouth was passionate, probing, as if through his kiss he could truly know her. Know if she could be trusted.

“What are you?” he whispered as his mouth traveled to her temple and then to her ear. “I want to know the truth about you, Nadine. I need to know.” His lips left a tingling trail as he held her against him.

With her head thrown back in sheer abandon Nadine took in his words as a drowning man takes in water, inescapably transfixed by the sound, smell, and feel of him.

Suddenly, their moment of surrender was interrupted by a repeated hissing and grinding sound. Startled, Nadine and Ulysses turned to see Madame Deane laughing hysterically as she thrust her wheelchair back and forth rapidly in the same spot. Her neck was stretched forward and her eyes gleamed as she watched them.

Embarrassed and unnerved by Madame Deane, Nadine quickly stepped away from Ulysses and turned toward several articles behind her. It was Ulysses' calm but stern voice that halted the nerve-racking sound.

“Aunt Helen, you should have said something when you first came in. At least that is how you raised me. You told me to always announce myself when I entered a room.” Ulysses attempted to appeal to the rational adult in his aunt. He waited for her to respond but she continued to stare wildly at Ulysses, then Nadine. “Aunt Helen, I am talking to you, and I will not tolerate your refusing to answer me,” Ulysses persisted, this time his tone more ominous than before.

Madame Deane's neck curved awkwardly to the side as she lowered her head, her eyes looking up like a wild animal that was about to be struck.

“There you are, madame,” Catherine's voice called from somewhere beyond the doorway. “You must not play games like this.” When Catherine saw Ulysses she continued to vent her frustration. “I tell you, Master Ulysses, madame is getting where she is almost uncontrollable. I gave her some medicine this morning, but it does not seem to take effect as quickly as it used to. She should have been sleeping by now, instead I found books pulled down from the shelves and on the floor in the library, And the desk in there is a mess.” She looked at Madame Deane and stretched out her hands, beseeching an explanation from her longtime employer and companion. “I just do not understand. You have never acted like this before. Never.”

By now Madame Deane was agitatedly rubbing her index finger upon her thigh. She looked up at Catherine, her thin pleated lips giving the best interpretation of a pout that she could muster. “I must find it. That is what. I must find it, you hear me.” Her voice came in raspy tones. She looked back at Ulysses and Nadine; a secret, unattractive smile crossed her lips.

“Find what, madame?” Catherine implored, thinking of all the work Madame Deane had created for her.

Madame looked at her as if she were a buffoon. “The missing page.”

Catherine threw her hands up in frustration and then placed them on her squarish hips. “Well, excuse me for living. I tell you what. I do not care what that doctor says. I am going to give you another dose of that medication.” Then, remembering her position, Catherine turned to Ulysses. “That is, if it is alright with you, Master Ulysses?”

Ulysses looked at his aunt and nodded. “Maybe you should also contact the doctor and have him come by to see her.”

“I will do that as soon as I am finished with madame.” Catherine attempted to push her away.

With clawing hands Madame Deane stopped her. “Ulysses, you will regret that you are having them drug me. Time is running out!” Her eyes were glassy. “Lenora! Lenora! Tell him! Tell him that time is running out!” Her last burst of energy subsided as quickly as it began. The medication was finally beginning to take effect.

Nadine watched as Catherine wheeled Madame Deane away. The urgency in Madame Deane's voice unnerved her. She thought of the animal skin that remained behind her headboard. At first she hadn't given the object much credence because of Madame Deane's eccentricity. But after her stay on Barbados, and deciphering the message on the cliff dwellers' necklace, Nadine was beginning to change her mind. A couple of nights ago she almost opened it, but fear of what she might find stopped her. Somehow she knew inside the skin she would find the answer to the quandary that connected her with the island of Eros.

Nadine had come to the islands ready to work, and with a silent hope that she might discover something about her ancestors, her past. Something that would make her feel she did belong, no matter how much she had always felt like an outcast. But now that Nadine was on the verge of finding out, she did not know if she was ready. She was beginning to feel the answers would be more bizarre than she ever imagined.

A tingling sensation seemed to emanate from the tablets around her neck, another indication of how badly her nerves had been affected by what had just taken place. Poor Madame Deane. Her personality was as mixed up and erratic as Ulysses' reaction to Nadine.

“If that was not enough to bring us back to reality,” Ulysses regarded her with veiled eyes, then focused on the legal pad that lay on the floor, “nothing else will.” He picked up the tablet. “I think it will take every day up to the sale to get the remaining items priced and ready.”

“Yes. Yes, I guess it will,” Nadine replied. She thought Ulysses had put emphasis on the word “reality.” The reality was, no matter how much she wanted Ulysses and cared for him, his attraction to her was purely physical. He could not care for her because he did not trust her. Maybe that was part of the reason he had decided to supervise the last days before the event.

Nadine recalled the passage in the Bible that said a woman was a man's helpmate, which meant he would trust her with his love, his children, his property. She believed a man who truly cared for a woman would definitely trust her.

As far as Nadine knew, she had done nothing for Ulysses to distrust her, but if that was the way he felt, she would have to accept it. Just as she had accepted the missing onyx slab. Trust. It was hard to know who to trust at Sovereign.

All of a sudden she wanted to be finished with her work at Sovereign. The sooner she was free to leave, the better off she would be, because she knew she had fallen in love with Ulysses Deane, and there was no future in that. It took everything Nadine had to hold her composure. She drew a deep breath. “Now where were we? Oh, yes, the book from Hannibal's library.”

Ulysses' eyebrow rose when Nadine ignored where they really had been before his aunt's tirade. But he did not stop her. There was work to be done, and plenty of time later for other things. Someone was responsible for the troubles that Sovereign had been having, and as enticing as Nadine Clayton was, and as badly as he hated to admit it, she was definitely a prime suspect.

Chapter
20

“Now, if you could hold it still while I refasten this string,” Ulysses said without looking up from the kithara.

Nadine quickly lent her assistance as she continued to admire the musical instrument. “You say it is in the lyre family?” she asked, knowing the answer, but enjoying the camaraderie she and Ulysses had developed as the day wore on.

“Yes, it is. The sounding-box of your basic lyre was made of tortoiseshell, whereas the sounding-box of the kithara, as you can see, is shaped from wood. There.” His task complete, Ulysses sat back to admire his work. “It's a shame we don't have a plectrum to go with it.”

“A what?” This time Nadine's ignorance was genuine.

“A plectrum. It is a small pick that the musicians used to play the kithara.”

“You sound like the expert instead of me,” she complimented him. “I thought it was supposed to be the other way around.”

Ulysses smiled. “Now that I've fixed it, what are we going to do with it?” he said, looking at the instrument's worn strings and bands and washed-out wood.

“It really is in bad shape,” Nadine replied. “Maybe we could use it as decoration. I think it will add a special flavor to the setup.”

“Sounds good to me.” Ulysses turned toward Nadine and stretched. “I don't know about you but I am ready to bring this workday to an end.”

“I don't know.” She looked out of one of the windows. “It's still daylight and I usually work at least until dusk.”

Ulysses watched her concentrated features. “There are other things to do in the daytime, Miss Clayton, such as visit the wharf, take in the beach. Or have you forgotten that our beautiful pink and white beaches are one of our main attractions?”

“I know.” Nadine exercised her tired shoulders. “I guess I haven't spent any time on the wharf or at the beach since I arrived. A couple of times Melanie suggested that we might go there together, along with Rodney, but that never panned out. Maybe
we
could go.” Her face brightened with the thought of it.

“Let's do it. Since I am the boss here, I give you my permission.” Ulysses smiled at her engagingly. “We can get something to eat at one of the restaurants or visit a tavern.”

Nadine looked at his expectant features and she did not know how she could refuse. This would be the first time she and Ulysses would do something together that did not involve business. She could feel her anticipation stirring. “Alright. Give me a few minutes to freshen up and I'll meet you in the entranceway.”

“I will be waiting,” he replied.

* * *

Ulysses dipped and swayed with the rest of the men as Nadine and several other women watched and waited. The music was at a fever-high pitch and the band played tirelessly, while the momentum of the music constantly changed. An elderly man with a black and gray beard yelled, “Goat heaven!” and a responding chorus rang throughout the tiny tavern which was packed to capacity. Several tables and chairs had been pushed aside to make more room on the dance floor.

The men's dance ended in a flurry of squats, leaps, and spins, and then the band began a slow, languorous tune. Ulysses approached Nadine with a swaggering stride, his dark eyes locking with her excited hazel ones. Gallantly, he bowed before her and nodded toward the dance floor.

Nadine did not say a word as she stepped forward. Her heart pounded out the answer. Ulysses' silence thrilled her. There was something sensual about his wordless command. Nadine knew, on the surface, it was an invitation to dance, but the passion that glowed in his eyes spoke of other things, and her quick submission to his demand did as well.

Like dancers entering a stage they crossed the floor one behind the other, and as they walked Ulysses began to remove the black scarf he wore tied about his neck. Adeptly, he matched his steps to the tempo of the music, snapping the black square of material in time with the snapping fingers of other dancers and onlookers.

Ulysses was the first to reach the center of the floor, and he turned slowly to face his willing partner. When they stood face-to-face once again Ulysses snapped the kerchief, and in one smooth motion guided it behind Nadine's waist. He grabbed hold of the loose end as it appeared on the opposite side and pulled her toward him until their bodies were flush. It was the scarf that drew Nadine's body forward, but for all she knew it could have been the sheer male magnetism that Ulysses exuded. Nadine was caught up in the moment and she allowed the sensuous tune to seep into the very depths of her being.

Ulysses' dark, hooded eyes recognized her surrender. It was then he reached down and tied the bandanna around Nadine's waist. Once his task was completed, he wrapped her in his arms and began to dance.

The song lasted for only a few minutes, but oh, how agonizing those minutes were. She could feel every movement of his sinewy body against the thin cotton of her frock, and whenever she looked into his eyes, there Was such longing and desire. It seemed to burn straight into her. So much so, that she was forced to pull her gaze away.

Ulysses and Nadine remained standing as one long after the music had stopped. Neither wanted to break the emotionally charged spell of the moment.

Finally, Nadine looked up into Ulysses' eyes, her expression serious. She could tell he was anticipating what she was about to say. “Ulysses,” she paused for impact, “do you plan to feed me this evening?” Sensuous overtones glazed the inappropriate question. Nadine knew full well Ulysses was not expecting her to bring up food at such a romantic moment. She could barely keep the corners of her mouth still as she suppressed laughter over his confused expression.

“You little trickster.” He grabbed her shoulders and shook her playfully. Then Ulysses smiled. “Okay. Food it shall be. I know a place that makes great macaroni pie.”

“You do? Well, lead the way. I'm all yours,” Nadine replied, knowing the words held a double meaning.

“Are you now?” Ulysses countered, eyeing her suspiciously. “We shall see.”

It did not take long for them to reach the small stand that sold all sorts of foods. Nadine stood by waiting as Ulysses placed the order. Feeling happy in a way she did not know was possible she looked out toward the ocean. Her gaze traveled eastward until it came to a gathering of majestic cliffs. The black, red, and cinnamon rock gleamed as it rose above the sapphire-blue water. It was a powerful sight, a testimony, in Nadine's mind, to the wonder and majesty of the earth and God.

“I never knew that mountains, cliffs rather, could come in such colors,” she said as Ulysses came up beside her.